


Eclipse

by musicmillennia



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, mystical elements, solar eclipse, sun and moon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 10:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11872491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/musicmillennia
Summary: Sun and moon finally align. They don't have long, but it will have to be enough.





	Eclipse

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of the solar eclipse! I don't claim to be a scientist, but this is more mythology than anything, so??

They follow each other’s rays as the sun and moon begin to drift into alignment, meeting at a long-established halfway point. If Laurence would have his way, he would embrace his dear friend immediately, but unfortunately he is forced to walk slowly, hand outstretched. He is delighted when Tharkay does the same while reflecting the same irritation, albeit in his own quiet manner. As always, he is the perfect juxtaposition to his blazing heart.

“Tenzing,” Laurence says warmly.

“I still dread what the humans would think should they ever see me,” Tharkay says dryly. “They have depicted me as a pale cherub with a lyre for so long, that I fear they will be disappointed with the result.”

Laurence’s cheeks flush. “As they have illustrated me as a woman—your twin sister, actually.”

Tharkay’s lips curl, a bare twist in his mouth. “At least you fit the ideal image.”

“If they find you inadequate, I will let Temeraire do as he pleases,” Laurence replies fiercely, unflinching before the sun’s piercing light.

“And how is Temeraire?” While Laurence does his job well in guiding the tides, the sea is still a force unto itself, and Temeraire’s roar has been heard quite often in the past weeks.

Indeed, Laurence’s expression pinches when he replies, “He is well. The disturbances you have undoubtedly witnessed are caused by Lien’s interference. She has been gathering as much of herself as she can and blocking Temeraire’s view of me however she can, nearly causing a tsunami in the process— _and_ nearly drowning countless ships all over the world. Not,” he adds hastily, “that Temeraire is not glad to see you every day. He thinks you a friend, and enjoys your heat immensely—”

“Laurence,” Tharkay interrupts wryly, “If I became the main focus of a dragon and his domain, I should further distance myself and freeze them out.”

Laurence is quiet.

“Which will not happen,” Tharkay adds just as lowly. Their hands are almost touching, and his fingers twitch. Louder, he asks, “And the constellations?”

Laurence’s downcast eyes raise with his eyebrow. “You are constantly in their collected presence, even when I must travel. Surely you would know better than I.”

“On the contrary,” Tharkay says, “I confess I do not make a habit of associating with them.”

“You are a star,” Laurence says, “the brightest and loveliest, of course, but a star nonetheless.”

His cheeks warm, and unbeknownst to him, so do Tharkay’s, who replies, “There is a distant respect, which is what I prefer.”

Laurence is forced to be satisfied with this, and tells him: “Lily and her formation remain brilliant as ever. Excidium still adores Jane and Roland, though I am not sure he will ever stop finding their ladle shapes as a source of amusement. Granby and Iskierka shine brightly, though Iskierka always brags about her status as North Star and guide to Temeraire’s consternation.” He glances at the bare distance between them with an almost raptured hunger. “Demane and his brother have gained their own dragon star. Kulingile. A weak light at first, but enormous now, hale and hearty. I enjoy seeing them all in turn.”

“But for Lien,” Tharkay says with a subtle smirk.

A soft huff leaves Laurence. “One cannot rid oneself of the clouds. But I would rather evidence of your presence, even if the evaporation adds to her.”

Laurence is almost fully before him. So damned close.

“What of you?” Laurence asks.

“I travel, in my own way,” Tharkay says, “as always. I watch planets turn.”

“The other moons are in good orbit?” Laurence asks. He does not sound as impartial as he thinks, prompting Tharkay to smile again.

“Yes,” replies the sun, “but we share plain greetings, should we ever come in contact.”

There is relief, sorely masked, in response.

At last, their hands touch, swiftly turning into a white-knuckled grip. A few minutes more and they will be able to do more, but for now, Tharkay is almost irrationally grateful for this.

“People will be watching now,” Laurence suddenly says.

“Let them try,” Tharkay replies, a strange ferocity underlying his voice, “Combined, we shine too brightly for normal eyes to see.”

It is always the case with Laurence: he augments everything he touches, and he rarely allows others to do the same for him.

Theirs is an agonizingly slow dance, but they savor every minute step. After this, they know, they must return to wistful, far-off greetings in slim interims. Sometimes, they privately wish they had not adored each other, but the fact remains that one gladly sets for the other to rise.

Therefore, the moment they face each other, Tharkay envelops Laurence in his light and they clash with a sudden force that blinds Earth. The seas hum and rock, retreating one instant before reaching for the shores as if to dance as well. Clouds cower and bend; stars shine brighter.

Laurence and Tharkay clench in each other’s hair, free hands touching all they can in an attempt to memorize every detail until their next meeting. It is a short eternity, a span of minutes, until Laurence is pulled back to arm’s distance, and Tharkay can more fully see behind him.

In moments like these, Tharkay has never despised Earth more.

They stare at each other, mouths floundering slightly, terribly conscious of the time slipping from them.

“How strange,” Laurence murmurs, “I can greet you, but I cannot find the words for goodbye.”

Tharkay’s throat bobs. He looks uncharacteristically hesitant. “We still have time, Will.”

Their distance seems to increase faster than it waned before. But Laurence smiles as best he can and squeezes Tharkay’s fingers.

“Just so, Tenzing,” he says softly, “just so.”

**Author's Note:**

> As I am writing/posting this, the eclipse is barely two hours gone. Really, really awesome!


End file.
